Come Crashing
by Literary Eden
Summary: Saeran leaned against the wall at the back of the room and crossed his arms over his chest, the tips of his fingers nipping into his ribs. Whether it was to combat the chill of the conference room or to keep himself from screaming, he didn't know. He just needed to stay away from her. Hacking into her phone had been the biggest mistake of his life. Rated M for Language
1. Come Crashing

**Author's Note:** _Just a forewarning, this is an un-betaed, angsty dabble in an unrequited Saeran/MC relationship post-Saeyoung's route, with a potential future for both related and unrelated chapters. This chapter is rated M (should it be T? How seasoned are teenagers now?) for language only._

 **Genre:** _Angst, with hints at romance. Small hints. Micro-sized, man._

 **Come Crashing**

* * *

Saeran leaned against the wall at the back of the room and crossed his arms over his chest, the tips of his fingers digging into his ribs. Whether it was to fight the chill of the conference room or to keep himself from screaming, he didn't know. He just needed to stay away from her.

With careful, calculating eyes, he watched as she hedged around the table, making her way over to Jumin Han's harried-looking assistant. Jaehee Kang had closed the presentation and was just switching off the smartboard when MC stopped beside her. They chatted for a moment in hushed whispers (he was only able to make out the words "DVD collection") and Jaehee's face lit up like a toy in the hands of a toddler, the flashes and whistles all firing at once.

Even though Kang had led their three-hour meeting, Saeran realized this was the first moment she truly seemed present. Happy, even. Until Jumin Han strolled over and deposited a thick stack of paperwork into her hands. As she flipped through the pages, Jumin spoke almost absently, righting his cufflink while murmuring about "error notations in the margins" and a "two-hour deadline". Jaehee nodded and swiftly quit the room, looking dejected.

"I'll text you available dates later!" MC called after her. She turned to frown at Jumin once the assistant was out of sight.

"Jumin... I know she's an important part of the team, but please consider giving her a break. It's not healthy for anyone to work so much…" As she trailed off, her voice grew almost tender. "You too."

Saeran thought he could see a trace of warmth soften the CEO's composed face.

Jumin cleared his throat. "Once the contract is corrected, Assistant Kang will be required to leave for the day."

MC beamed up at him and the warmth in Jumin's face was instantly unmistakable. A familiar unease flickered to life inside Saeran's chest and he looked away, letting their conversation disintegrate into noise.

It didn't take long for his gaze to return to MC.

Dressed in a gray sweater dress and a pair of uniformly gray leggings, she practically melted into the walls around them. Her dark hair was gathered into an untidy twist atop her head and, not for the first time, Saeran acknowledged that her face was painfully average. Pale, little make-up, brown eyes. She was utterly ordinary. Easy to overlook.

 _At first_ , his mind hissed. Saeran dug his fingers deeper into his ribs. _Only at first_.

With wary eyes, he watched her chatter, realizing her conversation with Jumin must have strayed from casual into amusing because her cheeks had twitched up and her eyes had crinkled. Saeran held himself together, confident his grip would leave bruises as his eyes bolted to the clock above the coffee station. He frowned at the time and looked at Saeyoung, who was joking with Yoosung Kim near the door. Aggravation twisted his stomach into a smoking coil.

They should have left half an hour ago.

A burst of laughter stole his attention, the cacophony of half-giggles, half-bellows exploding through the room like fireworks. Everyone else turned to stare as well, watching MC wipe tears from her eyes as her chortling faded into hiccups. She seemed oblivious to the sudden quiet that had fallen over her friends, and Jumin looked almost smug as he gazed down at her.

The smile on her lips was bright— _impossibly_ bright—as if the sun had somehow tumbled down from the sky to snuggle in behind it. Saeran's chest tightened at the sight, something bubbly and warm spilling into his heart. It sloshed around inside, fizzing up to fill the emptiness and—

Saeran pointedly sunk his gaze into the carpet. Inside him, anxiety was turning his nerves into power lines, snapping between them like voltage and hyping him into a panic. He fought it back, pulling in deep breaths—one after another, after another, after another—until the humming in his ears slowly began to fade. The room dimmed as the electricity faded, coming back into focus. He shut his eyes as the bubbling began to spill away.

MC had a sickly, frightening way of illuminating the world around her; around _him_. LIke a flash of lightning, she struck too close and swallowed up every shadow, threatening to reveal all his cracks. Every time she smiled, he felt the ground tremble beneath his feet.

Hacking into her phone had been the biggest mistake of his life.

An image of her surfaced through the fog of his memory, unsettlingly crisp and clear. Alone on a city bus, she sat with headphone buds squeezed into her ears, watching the world pass outside her window as she bobbed her head to the beat. He was studying her from two seats back—the same seat he'd been studying her from for a week without her realizing—and decided in that moment that she was perfect.

Perfectly unexceptional.

Perfectly unassuming.

Perfectly naïve.

He was practically giddy when the bus finally pulled up to her stop. He stood to follow her. _Too easy,_ his mind whispered.

And it _was_ easy; bumping into her at the bottom of the stairs; knocking her purse to the sidewalk; pocketing her phone. She didn't even check her things over once they'd finished stuffing them back into her bag, just threw it and a quick "thank you" over her shoulder and rushed off toward her destination. He watched her jog away while his program cracked into her phone, thoroughly bored. The messenger was installed before she'd even slipped out of view.

When he set off after her, his brain was already charting the next phase of his plan.

 _"Hey! Hey, wait!"_

She spun around when he caught up with her, breathless and wide-eyed, a few strands of hair jostled free of her ponytail. She breathed a soft "Oh" as her eyes fell to the rectangle in his hand, the lace of her breath curling up past her scarf to disappear into the crisp, March air.

 _"I think you dropped this, too, right?"_

He pressed the phone into her palm, and his mind whispered again— _Too easy!_ —just before her eyes lifted and cut the power to his brain.

Her smile glittered like a flame, brightening her eyes from the inside. The warmth of them almost seemed to spill out and brush against his skin. She thanked him in a rush, stumbling over her words as she pressed the phone to her chest, but he barely registered her words.

 _What…What is this…_

He searched her face for what felt like a thousand times in one moment, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find an answer that made sense.

There was no deception in her smile. No pity. No darkness.

It existed entirely without shadow.

Then.

There.

 _In the current world._

The realization split the foundation beneath his feet.

It was a small crack, _tiny_ , but large enough to make him wonder—just for a moment—if the world was truly as hopeless as Mint Eye believed.

It was the same crack Saeyoung and the doctors had widened.

The same crack Saeran was still trying to—

MC began to move in the conference room, the sharp clip of her flats chasing away his memory of her on the sidewalk. His eyes shot open, following her as she walked from Jumin to Zen, who was nursing his cider just a few feet away from him. Saeran sidestepped into the shadow of a pillar, hoping the movement was discrete enough to avoid notice. Luckily for him, Zen struck up a conversation with the party planner before she'd even taken three steps, effectively stealing her attention.

"Hello, beautiful~! Talking to the trust fund jerk before me? Are you trying to make me jealous?"

She shook her head at him in exasperation and he chuckled low in his throat, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. So, how was the meeting? Did it bore you at all?" He tossed her a teasing look. "Considering who you were sitting next to, probably not, but… I think Seven put a coffee stick in your hair?"

"Three, actually." MC appeared oddly smug about it. Zen eyed her with confusion until the smirk on her face widened and she flashed him a glimpse of something in her hand. Her voice went so quiet Saeran had to strain to hear her next words. "Only a worthy sacrifice if you help me hide these in Jumin's desk."

" _Ohhh._ " Zen's eyes flashed with mischief. "My pleasure, babe."

He plucked the mystery from her fingers and shot her a wink before sweeping across the room and out the door. Yoosung stepped over to MC as Zen left, a coffee cup in each of his hands. He held one out to her.

"Is Zen okay?" he asked with a frown, "He left in a hurry…"

"He's fine, he's fine," MC chirped, waving his concern away. She lit up when she caught sight of the coffee. "Oh, thank you, Yoosung!"

She took the cup with a smile and Yoosung practically came undone, a rosy blush creeping over his cheeks. He grinned back at her, but even Saeran could see the expression didn't quite meet his eyes. MC took a long pull from her drink as Yoosung fiddled with his, her eyes studying him thoughtfully. Her expression grew gentle and she lowered her cup. "How's your new semester going?"

They chatted about his syllabus, his new anatomy professor, and the recommendation letter he'd received from Jumin for veterinary school. As they spoke, Saeran watched the clouds in Yoosung's eyes slowly begin to clear, chased away by her sunshine and careful prodding. Yoosung's shoulders lifted little by little, and the bags beneath his eyes seemed to almost disappear the moment she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. They exchanged a whisper, MC's lips forming the Savio— _Rika's_ —name, and Yoosung returned the embrace with surprising fierceness. Saeran felt his panic return, needles prickling beneath his skin.

His eyes darted back to the exit, desperate for escape, but Saeyoung was still there. Babbling with Jumin this time. Trapping him in. Saeran puzzled over how to escape, his mind flipping through a dozen different strategies and trying to find one that wouldn't end in some irritating familial argument —

"Hello."

Saeran froze.

Oh, fuck _. Fuck_.

His gaze slid from his brother back to the carpet in front of him. MC stood where only emptiness had been moments before. His mouth ran dry, something like fear straightening the arch of his spine.

She was as petite as he remembered, the top of her head falling just beneath his chin, but nothing about her felt small as she stared up at him.

He had expected her glow to diminish if she greeted him, that a note of darkness would finally creep into her smile and distort it.

He had been wrong.

He had always been wrong when it came to her.

He bit back a curse.

Her eyes seemed to shimmer as she stared up at him, vast and glowing beneath the overhead lights. The fizzing in his chest rushed forward, expanding in the emptiness until he felt he would choke on it.

"I think we should start over." She offered him her hand.

It took a moment for him to digest that she was trying to touch him. _Willingly_.

Tension slid up his spine and filled his jaw with cement, making his teeth ache. He didn't understand. Didn't she hate him? She should. Didn't she know she should? He'd used her, _threatened_ her. He'd _killed_ —

"It doesn't bite," she whispered.

Her smile had softened while his mind drifted, but her gaze was still electric. It held him at attention. Captivated him. Captured him.

That revelation jarred his thoughts, digging up memories of needles and bars and _pain_ that Saeran had long buried beneath the haze of elixir. He felt his fingers begin to shake and he narrowed his eyes—desperate to make her smaller, to make her _less_ —and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. MC's expression wilted at the rejection.

"Oi!"

Saeyoung's voice broke the quiet, making them both jump. He was jogging over to them, a smiling blur of hair and teeth.

"Wait, wait, wait," he panted, "I want to introduce you!"

MC's hand had just fallen back to her side when Saeyoung stopped beside her. Saeran watched their fingers weave together before his brother clapped a hand on his shoulder, bringing up his eyes.

"Saeran, this is MC." His words were sincere despite the lopsided grin on his face. "MC, this is my brother."

"It's really nice to meet you," she gushed and then paused, adding quickly, "Well, formally anyway."

She sounded so honest that Saeran couldn't help but look back at her. The wilting in her face had fled, replaced by a smile more radiant than any of the others he'd seen that day. A smile just for him.

The bubbling inside him fizzed over, crashing against his heart in waves that crushed and bruised and _ached_. She was too much. Too bright.

Like a flash of lightning in the darkness.

"Welcome to the RFA, Saeran," she said, "We're really happy you're here."

And she _meant_ it.

Saeran swallowed, nodding despite himself, and felt the ground tremble beneath his feet.


	2. Feels Like Falling

**Author's Note:** This is still an un-betaed, angsty dabble in an unrequited (mostly) Saeran/MC relationship post-Saeyoung's route. This chapter is related to Come Crashing (though future chapters may be one-offs), and is rated M for language only.

 **Genre** : Angst, with hints at romance. Larger hints this time. You know, kinda.

 **Feels like Falling**

* * *

Saeran treasured the solitude that came with morning. In the cool light of dawn, he could walk through the house in peace, free of the constant supervision that had become so much like a prison. Unfortunately, the feeling was always temporary. The part of him that craved companionship was never far away, and it grew closer and closer the longer his isolation stretched on. By the time early afternoon came around, Saeran would find himself in the living room, perched on the arm of the couch to watch the clock tick. He would count the seconds of his dwindling privacy, watching them slip away like gems into an abyss and still wonder when Saeyoung would drag himself out of bed.

Not that he was looking forward to the surveillance; or the _noise_. But when it was quiet, it was too easy to forget. Forget that Mint Eye was gone. Forget he was free now, or whatever he was supposed to call it.

Most days, his new life felt less like freedom and more like a living Picasso, a cluster of shapes and colors that formed a complete picture yet remained distorted. It was miserable, but the time he endured between sleeping and waking was even worse.

Unknown lived there still, a shadow of instinct therapy had yet to purge. He would rise with the sun, urging him out of bed and to his laptop, pushing his fingers toward the keys and back into the heart of the RFA. It was only once he opened his eyes Saeran remembered. The flash of gunmetal. The sharp sound of an ending life. The realization that lies had consumed his pathetic existence.

Sometimes, he wished he could stay half asleep. Unknown was familiar even if he was terrifying. This wellness was a _curse_. It had left him with nothing. No plot. No Savior. No purpose. His motivation had been stripped away with his fury, the lingering pieces folded and stitched back into the shape of Saeran Choi.

But he didn't know how to be Saeran Choi anymore. The skin didn't fit the same. It strained over his shoulders like an old shirt, no matter how much his doctors mended and darned.

His therapist did her best to assure him discomfort was normal. All part of a process he would eventually work through. For now, he should find comfort in his little improvements. He wanted to tell her to shove it.

Saeyoung was just as bad, watching him with too hopeful eyes that measured him against the memory of what once was. Saeran could hardly look at him most days. Those eyes kept his heart hardened, waiting for the day Saeyoung would realize Saeran was gone for good and lock him up somewhere. Somewhere far from the RFA.

Far from her.

The thought of her made him cringe. Out of all of them, she was the worst. Nosy. _Pushy_. Poking into his business with smiles and kindness he didn't want.

"I think you look happier, you know? More… awake, maybe? I'm not sure how to explain it." MC said one morning when they found themselves crammed into a booth at Saeyoung's favorite donut place. Saeran barely heard her over his brother's chewing.

He didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing, looking out the window instead. A group of children rushed through the snow, heaving lumps of the white powder at each other as they laughed and slipped. Christmas was only a few weeks off and red and green lights draped over the slouching, snow trodden roofs that framed the street. The smallest child stopped in front of a candy shop, snowball slipping from his mitten as he reached up to touch the door. Saeran felt a tug of nostalgia he couldn't place.

"Saeran?"

He turned back to find MC staring at him, her fingers tugging idly at her slouchy cap as she worried her lower lip. She'd yanked the white knit on as she'd rushed out her door that morning, trapping down a mess of unruly bedhead. He remembered the delicate way her dark waves had bent around her face —

"Saeran? You alright?" MC tilted her head and her hair slipped over her shoulder, the ends narrowly missing her glass of orange juice.

"Yeah." Saeran cleared his throat and pushed his plate away, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Just thinking."

Saeyoung reached out and snatched the half-eaten donut from Saeran's plate, stuffing it into his mouth with a hunger that belied the two he'd devoured already. Saeran scowled. The pastry massacre did not distract MC, however. She shook her head and smiled, and Saeran felt his ears warm under her scrutiny.

"Not great with compliments, are you?"

He shrugged and sunk back into his seat, increasing the space between them.

"Guess not."

She giggled; a soft, airy sound that filled the room with music.

At some point, Saeran had begun categorizing the many types of her laughter. This was one of his favorites. Delicate and warm. It was a reminder of her gentleness; a peek into the parts of her that were tender instead of blinding and bright. Hearing it eased the cord in his chest that always tightened whenever she was near—

 _Christ._

He was doing it again.

Saeran shook a hand through his hair and turned his scowl to the window. The children were gone, leaving nothing to distract him from his mortification. He clenched his teeth. _Get a grip_.

MC spoke to him again, probably something witty and nauseatingly MC like, and Saeran nodded as though he hadn't wandered off into a realm of complete lunacy. It must have been the right response because she went back to chattering with Saeyoung as soon as his brother's mouth was empty. Saeran tried not to look too relieved.

"So, MC," Saeyoung sing-songed, turning to face her, "I'm still waiting for an answer."

MC snorted into her orange juice. "I'm not moving in with you just because you need a new maid, Saeyoung."

Saeran choked on his own spit, but the sound of Saeyoung's whining drowned out his sputtering.

"What?! That is _so_ not—"

"I've seen your laundry pile. And the dishes. And the soda can tower in your office."

"But Vanderwood hasn't been coming around as much! And I'm no good at— "

The look she leveled at him cut the joke short. Saeran was still trying to breathe. He took a long pull from his water glass.

"Alright, look," Saeyoung laughed, "I'm not trying to tie you to my mop. I don't know if I even _own_ a mop… Okay, okay! Put the fork down! I'm just saying we could see each other more if you lived with me. _Annnnd_ you would live somewhere you can stretch without touching every room—"

"Hey—!"

"Your apartment is a closet, MC—"

"It is not! It's normal apartment size—!"

" _For a mouse_. A tiny one—"

"S-Stop." Ragged and rasping, Saeran's voice cut through their banter like a shadow, effectively killing the argument.

Saeyoung turned to stare at him, obviously confused by the change in mood. "What's up?"

"…What do you mean, "Move in"?"

His brother stared at him as though he'd grown two heads. "What do you mean "what do I mean"? We talked about this last week, remember?"

"No." From the corner of his eye, Saeran saw MC flinch at his tone. He didn't care if he hurt her feelings. The thought of her living in the same house was enough to—

"We were in the kitchen. You were reading, I think."

"I don't remember—"

"It was Tuesday. I know because—"

" _I don't remember_."

"…What? You said, 'I don't care, just go away'—"

"Then I wasn't listening—"

"Boys?" They glanced over to find MC had stood to leave. She teetered on her toes for a moment, her coat tucked under her arm. "Why don't you talk more about it alone, okay? I need to head out anyway."

"MC, I—"

"It's alright, Saeyoung." She leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. Saeran looked away. "I don't want Saeran to be uncomfortable. It's his home too."

Saeran had to fight every guilty feeling he had to keep from watching her leave.

* * *

She was moving in with them. God fucking save him.

Saeran didn't look up from his book when the door opened, his eyes fixed on the tiny '217' printed at the bottom of the page. He tried to focus on his breathing as her footsteps clipped down the hallway, reciting the lessons from his latest therapy session.

He was in control.

 _Five seconds, inhale._

His emotions were his.

 _Five seconds, exhale._

He was safe.

 _Five seconds—_

She stepped into the room, a smudge of gray at the corner of his vision, and Saeran's lungs hitched. He closed his eyes and tried to remember where he'd left off.

He was safe. He was safe.

He was safe even as a storm swept across the floor and propped her suitcases against the wall.

"Whew," MC said with a laugh, "Think I brought enough stuff?"

The couch dipped as she sunk into it and Saeran's eyes flew open, his heart crawling up into his throat. She heaved a small sigh and rested her feet on the coffee table.

The middle section of the couch put a barrier of cushiony space between them, but Saeran's skin prickled all the same. Beneath the fringe of his bangs, he saw her turn to smile at him, her eyes bright as flashlights. The spine of his book creaked beneath his tightening fingers.

"Koontz fan?" she asked, nodding toward the novel.

Saeran said nothing, hoping she would take the hint. She didn't.

"I prefer King myself, but I enjoyed the Odd Thomas series."

Again, her words faded into silence. It filled the space between them like smoke, and Saeran wished Saeyoung would get off his computer and come collect her. Maybe then he could _breathe_ —

There was a sudden bowing in the cushions and Saeran's gaze shot over to her, eyes blown wide in panic. She was leaning over the cushion between them, her fingers pushing at the cover of his book as she tried to get a peek at the title. She was close, _so close_ , and Saeran swallowed hard, trying to push his heart back down into place. Her lashes were long and dark, darker than her hair; he watched them shiver as her eyes read.

"Ah-ha!" she declared in a whisper, "I knew it. _In Odd We Trust_. Good prequel."

MC's gaze lifted to catch his glare and the light in her eyes wavered, dimming as though a circuit had shorted in their wiring. She recoiled, the pressure of her fingers slipping away, and he nearly groaned in relief.

She studied him from her side of the couch, her brow furrowing deeper the longer she stared.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "I shouldn't have just… "

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and chewed at it, concern etching into her face. Saeran watched her chest rise and fall as her mind worked, counting the breaths like seconds between thunderclaps.

"Anyway, I'm sorry."

She stood and walked back to her luggage, snapping the handles into place. When she spoke again, she didn't turn to look at him.

"Enjoy your book. I, uh… I should throw this stuff in Saeyoung's room."

She took a step to leave.

"Do you know where it is?" The words escaped him before he could stop them. He inwardly cursed when she paused.

The ticking clock filled the silence between them.

"Yeah," she whispered, relief mixed with joy, "Thank you, though."

Saeran felt his heart slam into his ribs.

She left the room, wheeling her luggage out of sight and he returned to his book. He tried to focus, but there was a humming in his ears, like the aftermath of an electrical surge. A half hour went by before he realized he was still staring at page 217. He swore and snapped the book shut.

* * *

He tried—dear God, he _tried_ —but he could never avoid her. She was everywhere; in the kitchen reading at the table, in the dining room tapping on her laptop, in the bathroom brushing her teeth. And she was always so sickeningly _nice_ ; asking him how he was; if his food was okay; if he was enjoying his book. He always responded with silence, even when Saeyoung kicked him under the table, but ever since that day in the living room she didn't seem to mind.

 _She didn't mind._

Not when he ignored her. Not when he glared at her (which he did often). Not even when he saw her coming down the hall and purposely turned to walk the other way. It was like she was determined to like him. To _befriend_ him.

It was maddening.

* * *

"Saeran!"

He glanced up from behind the refrigerator door, his fingers still fishing for a water bottle. MC was smiling at him from across the kitchen, flour splotched all over her frilly green apron, a mixing bowl clutched to her chest.

Saeran frowned and straightened, snapping the fridge shut. The LOLOL magnets on it jiggled, a chibi Jinx coming dangerously close to slipping to the floor. MC's smile didn't waver.

"Glad you're here," she said, "Could you help me? I guess my baking level isn't high enough for this recipe…"

He twisted the cap off his Aquafina and took a long drink, the bottle crackling beneath his fingers. "Is that why the whole house stinks?"

"Yeah…" MC sighed, "The first batch was a disaster."

She pointed her spatula at a plate of black, crumbling discs on the counter. Saeran had to hold back a snort.

"What help can I be? I've never baked before."

"Hey, two heads are better than one, right?"

"Not if they're both empty." He tossed his empty bottle into the trash and turned to leave.

"Oh, come on, Grouchy. It'll be fun."

He paused to glare back at her. "For who?"

MC pressed her spatula hand to her hip, smearing batter onto her apron. " _You_ , I think. Since you have such a sweet tooth."

Saeran felt his stomach drop.

"What… what makes you say that?"

A smile stretched across MC's face and she shrugged, looking like the cat that caught the goddamn canary. "Oh, please. I saw the way you eyed that cake at the last meeting. I look at chocolate the same way."

Saeran said nothing. He was sure his heart had permanently stopped beating. How closely did she watch him? How had he never noticed?

" _And_ you take four sugars in your coffee."

Saeran swore he could see a feather poking out of her mouth. He turned and left the room.

Hours later, after the literal smoke had cleared, he crept back into the kitchen to scavenge for a half-singed cookie. He was disappointed to find the jar empty.

 _What the hell? She couldn't have ruined all of them…could she?_

 _Damnit._

In a last-ditch effort, he peeked into the fridge and was surprised to find a small bow of chocolate-chip cookie dough sitting on the top shelf. Sealed with shrink-wrap, it winked up at him beneath the light of the fridge, a piece of masking tape stretched over the center. His name was scrawled across it in swirly, elegant letters.

Saeran snapped the door shut, watching the magnets shake. Jinx hit the floor this time, skittering across the tile to bump against his sneaker.

He glared down at it as his brain attempted to process the pressure building beneath his ribs. Was she playing with him? He could still see her smirking beside the counter.

The warmth spread, and he cursed. What the hell was it with her? What made him feel this way? This… what? Irritation? Madness? Affecti–

 _Fuck it._

Fuck her and her attentiveness and her delicious, delectable gift _trap_.

He turned on his heal to leave, but the promise of chocolate pieces and soft, sweet dough stopped him before he could flip off the light.

Saeran clicked his tongue as he stared hard at the wall. A full minute passed before his feet carried him back to the fridge. He slapped the Jinx magnet back on the door and tugged it open… quietly.

Okay, so he wanted to eat it. So, what? It wasn't because she made it. And it certainly wasn't because she left it for him. He liked sweets, that's all. If she asked if he took it, he'd deny it.

Nope. It must have been Saeyoung.

* * *

Saeyoung and MC tripped along ahead of him, arms linked as they strolled through the park. MC pointed out a large, flowering rose bush and made her way over to it, pulling Saeyoung in tow. Saeran lagged behind, his hands in his pockets. It was a warm spring day and the flowers were beautiful, but he hadn't felt much like leaving the house.

"Come on, Saeran Choi!" MC called over her shoulder. "I know you want to see, too!"

She waved him over, a bright smile on her face. "Roses are your favorite, right?"

There was no possible way for her to know that, but somehow, she did. Just like the sweets.

He felt a soft tug in his chest when he stepped beside her and she pointed out a lovely, new bud. "It's an Amber Flush, right?"

She turned questioning eyes to him and he nodded, holding back a smile. "Yeah."

"Thought so," she said with a nod, "It was on the cover of that flower book you left on the couch."

 _Ah._

She moved to pat his arm and then seemed to think better of it, offering him a small smile instead and heading off to join Saeyoung, who had taken a seat in the shade with his laptop. Saeran stared down at the bush, watching the orange petals shiver in the breeze.

He knew he would eventually have to admit it.

Despite his best efforts, it was working. This… friendship bullshit.

Goddamn her.

Every day, he resented her attentiveness a little less; her _questions_ a little less. He'd even started answering some of them.

He was losing mind. What was left of it, anyway.

* * *

"What flavor is your favorite?" MC asked, gesturing to the ice cream display.

He stared at her instead, wondering what possibly could have convinced Saeyoung to leave his favorite human alone with his unhinged, murderous brother. She waited patiently for his response, fog forming around the tips of her fingers where they pressed against the glass.

"Vanilla," he said.

As she turned to order, he realized she must have been the one to push for the outing. Saeyoung was such a fool for her.

"A vanilla, please!" She piped to the man behind the display, "On a, um… sugar cone?"

She glanced over at Searan for confirmation and he gave her a nod. She smiled back at him; a full, honest smile. It summoned that familiar fuzzing in his chest and he had to look away.

"And I'll have chocolate," she added, turning back to the man, "On a waffle cone. Two scoops, please."

After a few minutes of waiting (and a last-minute request from MC for sprinkles), the man handed over two elegantly crafted ice cream cones. MC offered a sincere thank you as she stuffed five dollars into the tip jar, and the man smiled kindly at her as she turned to hand Saeran his cone.

 _Maybe Saeyoung isn't the only one_ , Saeran thought, watching the ice cream man watch her. She slipped out the door with a wave and Saeran followed her.

They walked in aimless silence for a long time. The sky was wide and clear above them, a solid, steady blue reminiscent of summer even though it was barely April. Saeran was watching a particularly large robin flutter by when she suddenly spoke.

"Okay." Her voice was muffled by ice cream. "Favorite movie?"

He shot her an annoyed glare, but she had grown desensitized to his glowering.

"Come on," she prodded.

He was quiet for a minute before grumbling, "I don't know. Never seen one."

She looked at him like the sky was falling. "… You've never seen a movie?"

"No."

"How is that even possible?"

He shrugged. "Plotting to murder my brother and destroy his charity organization didn't leave for a lot of free time."

She waved his bitterness aside. "Saeyoung has an entire _wall_ of movies, Saeran. You've been living next to them for six _months_."

"I prefer reading."

"Really? How do you know?"

He rolled his eyes and bit into his cone. "Fair enough."

They came to an empty park bench and she stepped up onto it, walking across the seat.

"Be ready to watch one when we get home."

He shook his head. "I'm busy — "

"You're not. You're just being stubborn." She jumped back onto the sidewalk. "A murder mystery, I think. Ever read anything by Agatha Kristy?"

* * *

Saeran and MC sat in the darkness of the living room, curled beneath a blanket on the plush, leather couch as the TV bathed their faces with light.

The film was decent, much better than Saeran had been expecting, but he caught himself watching MC more than the screen. She knew every line. She mouthed them silently… when she wasn't stuffing popcorn past her lips.

She shifted on the couch and stretched, and her toes brushed against the outside of his thigh. Saeran felt the air rush out of his lungs.

She withdrew almost immediately, and he had to fight the urge to reach out and stop her. It was ludicrous. His fingers gripped the arm of the couch.

"Sorry," she murmured beside him.

His heart hammered in his chest. He considered leaving the room. A month ago, he would have. So why didn't he now?

"Don't worry about it," he whispered.

* * *

"Did you like it?"

"The end was shit."

MC laughed; a raucous chorus of throaty chortling he had begun to associate specifically with her. She looked adorable odd standing in the doorway, wrapped up in her oversized blanket and staring at him with sleepy eyes.

"That's true," she yawned, "The book's better."

"What do you mean? They changed it?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Guess they thought audiences would like it more. They do that pretty often…"

"Makes no sense."

She laughed again, softer this time, "I agree... Though, I guess I understand the change too. The movie leaves people with hope."

"…But you like the book better?"

"Well, yeah." She readjusted her blanket, holding it together beneath her chin, "I like the honesty of the novel. Some stories are meant to offer hope, but this wasn't one of them. It… well, I don't want to spoil it. Read the book and we can talk more about it."

The next day, Saeran finished the small novel (which was in Saeyoung's collection, surprisingly enough) and decided he preferred reading after all. Hollywood was in the business of destroying classics rather than showcasing them, apparently.

Still, when MC pulled him into the living room a week later to watch _The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo_ , he didn't refuse.

* * *

"What's this?"

MC grinned up at him, shoving Stephen King's _Under the Dome_ into his hands.

"Trust me, you'll love it," she insisted, "It's 1,074 pages of _gold_."

Saeran stared down at the book. It had been well used, the hardcover torn at the corners to reveal the cardboard underneath. He opened the cover and flipped through the yellowing pages, frowning at the countless dog ears inside.

"… The condition is awful," he murmured.

"What?"

He turned the book to show her a page that was folded over twice. "Ever hear of a bookmark?"

Her face narrowed in irritation. He found it charming but pushed the feeling away.

She put her hands on her hips. " _You_ ever hear of manners?"

"This is a crime against books, MC."

"Fine. If you don't want it, I'll take it back."

She made a grab for the novel, but he jerked it out of her reach. Maybe a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. "It's fine. It's ugly, but I'll read it."

She crossed her arms. "It's not ugly, it's just… well loved. I've spent more time with that book than I have most people."

Saeran tucked the tome under his arm. Knowing she'd entrusted him with such a personal item had his heartbeat fumbling all over itself. Damn thing.

"The RFA's resident social butterfly?" He said with a snort. "I doubt it."

A flicker passed through her eyes, like shutters closing, and a heaviness he'd never seen before lowered over her face.

"Yeah, well…" The tone of her voice sounded almost self-deprecating. She tugged at the sleeve of her pajama top and looked away. "I was more of a wallflower before the RFA."

He'd upset her. A flash of anxiety worked into his chest at the realization, and it escalated into a mild panic when he realized he had no idea how to fix it.

"I went to a private school and didn't have many friends," MC said with a shrug, "so I used to spend a lot of time reading… or messing around with my PC."

Saeran couldn't help but picture her alone somewhere, curled up on a bed and pouring over the book beneath his arm. He pressed the tome tighter against his ribs.

"I guess I was a little like you." Her eyes moved back to him, thoughtful.

He stared down at her in silence, the words "like you" circling in his brain. After a moment, he forced his mouth to work. "…Like me."

She gave a firm nod. "Yeah. I think that's why I like you so much."

Saeran's chest tightened, his heart spilling heat that pooled and splayed beneath his skin. He felt it rise into his cheeks and hoped the dim hallway would hide the flush.

"Well," MC continued, looking shy, " _and_ because I'm so grateful to you."

A splash of cold brushed through him, tempering the heat. "… For what?"

"For introducing me to the RFA, of course." Her voice was gentle. "Without you, I never would have made such good friends. Or found Saeyoung. I'd probably still be at home reading…"

Saeran shook his head.

Just like that first day when he'd returned her phone, she didn't know what she was thanking him for. Even now, as she stared up at him with those shining, golden eyes, he was reminded of how badly he had longed to snuff them out. To turn them green and dim and nauseating.

Even worse, he knew Unknown had dreamed of taking her for himself. He would fantasize about her in the early morning, when the work was at a standstill and sleep was far off. Pretty and quiet, he pictured her in his workroom, a living doll awash in the glow of his monitors, her bright, vacant eyes shining with his reflection.

They had come close to that reality. Would likely have achieved it, if he'd been quicker that day at the apartment. She had no reason to be grateful to him.

"MC, I…" His voice was thick in his throat. "I wasn't..."

"Oh! Oh no, Saeran, no," she blurted in a rush, trying to soothe him, "I'm sorry. You don't have to… It's okay. I know your reasons weren't… I… I shouldn't have said anything, but… well, Saeyoung is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I thought you deserved to know I…"

She trailed off and bit her lip, her eyes moving somewhere far over his shoulder. When they came back to him, he felt his heart twist despite their glow. She spoke with new determination,

"Whatever else has happened, you _deserve_ to know that Saeyoung and I, and so many others, are all grateful that you're here… even if you're not grateful for yourself."

Saeran didn't know what to say. There was a ringing in his ears, soft and quiet, and somewhere deep inside him, he felt a wall crack. MC looked uncomfortable in his silence.

"Well, uh," she mumbled, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear. Saeran thought he saw a touch of pink in her face and could barely contain himself from reaching out to touch her cheek. The implication of that urge terrified him. "I should probably check in with Saeyoung about tomorrow's meeting. See you later. Let me know how you like the book, okay?"

She skirted around him and vanished into the living room, her slippers clacking against the wooden floor. Saeran stared at the space she'd abandoned in front of him, his fingers still tingling with the thought of her skin, and tightened his hold on her novel.

* * *

 _Kudos to everyone who knows the Agatha Christy piece!_


End file.
